


Having it All

by lmirandas



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Adoption, From CrushedRose's booklet, M/M, Marriage, Retirement, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, basically fluff, parent!strade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 03:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13562292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmirandas/pseuds/lmirandas
Summary: Can someone really have it all? In his old age, Greg Lestrade ponders that question and his answer is yes, someone can really have it all.





	Having it All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CrushedRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrushedRose/gifts).



> This was a little gift to cheer up our darling Rose when she was in the hospital. I'm so glad you are better now Rose, and I hope we keep enjoying Mystrade together for a long, long while. You are our own first prize Rose, and you will survive each and every crushing.
> 
> Update: Now with wonderful art from [alifetimeaheadtoprovethat](http://alifetimeaheadtoprovethat.tumblr.com/)

Can someone have it all? Have everything they dreamed of and even more? Greg Lestrade was pondering those thoughts while he rested on the big chair with a view of the garden. In his old age, his joints were a little tired, and he relied on a blanket to keep warm on those colder autumn evenings. The garden was his pride and joy; every bloom tenderly cared for. Mycroft had laughed when he started taking classes in botany and gardening, but the look of satisfaction when his husband got the first prize roses and other blooms told a different story altogether. The greenhouse had been a present for their tenth anniversary, two years after Greg formally retired and decided to become a gardening master. 

 

Four years after they finally said yes, Greg started to think about starting a family. He always wanted children, something that his cheating ex-wife found ludicrous, probably because it would place some barriers for her lifestyle, not that Greg knew about it until it was much too late for them and their marriage. When Greg finally got the partner he wanted, the one he was waiting for all his life, he thought both of them were too old, too busy to start a family. It was a surprise for him when Mycroft mentioned the possibility of adopting a couple of months later, telling him about everything they could give a child, all the resources and education wasted because they were not giving them to the next generation. That was a Mycroftian speech for yes, he was ready too, yes, he wanted a family, and also that was something he had envisioned for Greg and himself. So the adoption papers were sent, agencies scavenged and the perfect match found. A little two-year-old from Colombia, that was supposed to have special needs, but it turned out that her inability to talk and some other issues were a direct consequence of her environmental restrictions, or so Mycroft said in the most erudite way possible when the three-year-old started reciting poetry in perfect English.

 

So Alice Lestrade-Holmes was a gifted child, and her parents were incredibly proud of her. She got ballet lessons, and excelled, got to be a prima ballerina, her petite stature an advantage in that specific field. Mycroft never missed a recital since she started lessons when she was four, even if he had to work like a man deranged. And soon after, William Lestrade-Holmes joined the family from Uganda. The boy was a little tornado, turning their life upside down, and Mycroft was cutting more and more hours, relying on Anthea, honing her to be his replacement. Sooner rather than later, Greg was also cutting hours, and as Superintendent his time to retire surprised him like a punch to the face. But it was not unwelcome; he had a family waiting at home for him. He could kiss scraped knees, help his daughter pick tutus and ballet shoes. Their kids relied on him for drives to the Science Museum, to ballet lessons and Portuguese lessons, to Spanish class and drawing camp. 

 

His son wanted to be an artist, and he started by displaying every single finger paint all over the house. After those came the ink drawings and now, in his old age, Greg had portraits of all the family members. His daughter's brown eyes, full smile and long black hair, her tanned skin and slender body, her discipline and spirit caught in a pose playing the Black Swan. Her brother had captured every little detail, giving the painting as a gift for his parents 20th anniversary. A watercolour of his grandson's face, with the full afro the five-year-old prefered. His mother loved his natural hair as much as his grandparents. 

 

Their son had married young, and Mycroft had worried and fretted, and Greg had to kiss him like a man drowning to distract him from the constant anxiety. What if they failed? They were so young! But so far, so good, and Rebecca, their daughter in law, was a welcome addition to the family, who managed to make a profitable business of a gallery ran by both her and William. The first time Greg held Gregory Holmes Lestrade-Jones, the tears came unbidden, and he needed to leave the room to calm down. Mycroft was no better, but he was a lot more dignified in his joy. Only Greg, being with the man for years, could see that his heart was overwhelmed with joy.

 

So as he mused on the past years, he had no regrets. Yes, it was possible for a man to have it all. Just had to wait, and reach of out for the stars.

 

"Darling, are you coming back in soon? It's starting to get so chilly. You will catch a cold."

 

His husband, the reason for all of it, was waiting in the glass doors to the foyer, wrapped in a jumper and cosy woollen socks. The man was still tall, and his circulation had gotten worse with age. His hair was almost gone, and what was left of it had lost the brilliant auburn tint, completely white now.

 

"Coming love. Just getting philosophical in my old age."

"Oh, do tell?"

"I'll tell you all about it in bed tonight. Old geezers like us need plenty of rest."

"Speak for yourself, you dastardly man, I'm still young at heart."

 

Greg grabbed his husband's hand and kissed every knuckle. He was home. It took him long enough to find it, but Gregory Lestrade-Holmes had a haven at last. He had it all.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/141792829@N05/39753320804/in/datetaken/)

 


End file.
